Beautiful Mistakes and Twisted Actions
by MinionMooskateerAckleholic
Summary: AU College fic. Destiel, Megstiel (established relationship), Sabriel, Dean/Alistair (rape, violence), Hallucifer. WARNING: Rated M but should really be R18 for a reason. Rape, violence, coarse language, frequent drug use/references and SEX! :D Very intense! To much plot to summarize here! My biggest endeavor yet, hopefully a very lengthy story! Please read and review!


Dean was nervous. It had been a long time since he'd seen Alistair this angry. Alistair had refused to tell Dean what was wrong and had simply punched the wall and stormed into their bedroom.

Dean ran his hand through his hair and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Ali? Are you ok?" Dean called, trying not to let the anxiety get too obvious.

"NO I'M NOT FUCKING OK, DEAN!" Alistair screamed from inside the room. Dean winced and tried again.

"What's wrong, Ali? Can I help?"

"Just FUCK OFF, Dean!" was the harsh, cutting reply. Dean felt his eyes fill with tears and a lump rose in his throat. He thought about running out of the house and going to the hospital to see Sam, but before he could the bedroom door opened and Alistair stood there glowering.

"In. here. Now." Alistair growled dangerously and Dean shrank back slightly and Alistair stepped forward, menacingly. "You know what Dean?! I am sick of your shit! Your dumb-ass, little whimpering puppy behaviour and your unwillingness to try anything new with me. Get the fuck in here or I'll come and get you!"

Dean held his arms over his stomach protectively. John used to threaten him like this when Bobby or Ellen weren't home. Dean still remembered vividly the nights he lay, shivering, bleeding, and weak in his bedroom, just waiting for his father to want him again.

"Please, Ali. Please…you…you are scaring me." Dean begged quietly, not wanting to look Alistair in the eyes.

"Shut up, Dean!" Alistair hissed and covered the short distance between him and Dean. Then he grabbed the shorter man's upper arm and dragged him into the bedroom, slamming the door behind them. Dean stumbled over to the window and shrank back against the wall as far as he could as Alistair advanced.

"Dean. Clothes off. Now."

"No. No, Alistair. Please. I don't want to." Dean fought back tears and clutched his stomach even harder. But, Alistair just leapt forward and made quick work of ripping Dean's clothes off, leaving Alistair looking angry and horny and Dean looking frightened and vulnerable.

Suddenly Alistair moved and before Dean knew what was happening, he was on his back in the centre of the bed, bound to the bedpost at his hands, naked, and trying _desperately_ not to let his heart rate get too high.

"Alistair—" he began, feeling the tears damp on his cheeks.

"I swear, Dean, if you tell me one more fucking time that you don't want to I will hurt you." Alistair glared, his eyes dark with fury and lust. Dean sobbed once and felt his heart squeeze tightly. Alistair was going too far with this one...Dean didn't want it.

"Alistair…" Dean whimpered breathlessly. Alistair growled and slammed his hands into the bed on either side of Dean, moving in close so their faces were just inches away. He stayed like that for a few moments, keeping his eyes locked on Dean's. It was growing uncomfortable; Alistair's body hovering just above his own but not touching, the intensity of his hungry eyes making Dean want to sink into the mattress and die. And yet, Dean could not bring himself to look away. His lips trembled and he swallowed hard.

"Why are you doing this, Ali?" Dean asked quietly

"Scared, Winchester?" Alistair sneered. Damn him. Dean shook his head. "Maybe you ought to be. I am sick of you. You are a puny excuse for a partner and well…I've been seeing someone much more interesting for a while. Still, right now, I need some fragile entertainment. Something to break."

Dean had so many thoughts rolling through his head he couldn't think straight…fear, anger, fear, betrayal, fear, desperation. Before Dean had a chance to reply, Alistair bit into the crook of his neck. He pulled the sensitive skin through his teeth, drawing blood. Dean yelped in pain and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as Alistair lowered his body to cover Dean's. Alistair reached down and pulled Dean's hips tightly to his own, and rolled into him, but Dean was not hard and just whimpered in helpless humiliation and fear.

Alistair detached from Dean's neck and slammed into his lips instead in a bruising kiss. He forced his tongue past Dean's lips. Dean tried to break off the kiss and struggled, but Alistair pushed them back down, pressing them tightly into the mattress and still kissing Dean with furious lust; Dean couldn't move. He tried to cry out but Alistair swallowed his noise.

"Stop, Alistair." he begged.

"No," hissed the older man against his lips. "I don't have to do shit. You're my bitch, and right now, you do what _I_ say." He lifted himself off of Dean and kneeled above his chest, one knee on each side. Dean whimpered fearfully, wishing it would all just go away. Alistair threaded a hand through Dean's short hair, yanking his head up off the pillows. He positioned himself so that the head of his cock was at Dean's lips.

"Suck it now, bitch." Dean demanded, "Swallow it."

Dean was not sure why, but he did as he was told, taking Alistair's length into his mouth with one suck. Alistair's head dropped back as he thrust into Dean's mouth.

"Fucking deeper, golden whore," he hissed, moving faster with each thrust. Tears spilled freely from Dean's green eyes as he struggled to breathe around Alistair, but Alistair was unrelenting.

"I could just fuck your mouth until I cum down your throat," he threatened. His voice was low and thick with something much darker than Dean had deemed him capable of. Why was Alistair so sadistic? Even as the threat fell from his lips, he pulled out of Dean's mouth with a wet pop.

"Or I could just get off right now and leave you here until I want it again." Dean choked back a sob. Alistair 's eyes were dark, so dark. Dean almost couldn't distinguish the iris from the pupil. Alistair lowered himself in between Dean's hips, putting Dean's legs over his shoulders.

"No lube," Alistair snarled, "I want you to feel me."

Dean was expecting at least a finger, but Alistair shoved in, hard, the quickly drying saliva from the blowjob the only thing to provide some sort of barrier to the friction. Dean let out a strangled cry of pain, his hips lifting and twisting off the mattress, but Alistair swiftly pushed them down again and held them still, burying himself in Dean to the hilt. Dean was crying freely, his sobs and cries mingling with his fear and pain in a mad collage of chaotic feeling.

The truth was, as much as Dean had loved Alistair when they had first begun, Dean had always been very scared of the older man he slept with. He was almost always angry and violent, yelling and often throwing punches or slaps at Dean.

However, despite all of that, Alistair had never broken Dean's trust in such a way…until that day.

When he was finished with Dean, Alistair dressed and left the house, leaving Dean lying on the bed, bound and bleeding.

Dean passed out after a few minutes and just before he did, he remembered something…he summoned the last of his strength, reached for his phone, on the bedside table and pressed the speed dial number '6' and waited, eyes closed. He heard the dial tone and then a faint buzzing before someone picked up on the other end.

"Singer Salvage Yard. This is Ellen Singer."

"Mom. I need help," Dean croaked. "I'm…Alistair's house…mom, please."

"Dean? Honey what—?!" Ellen's voice was suddenly frantic, but Dean interrupted her.

"Mom…just come…I can't—"

Then he fell into blackness


End file.
